


Champions in their own right

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's Seijou week [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Champions, Gen, Godzilla - Freeform, Seijou Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-13
Updated: 2016-03-13
Packaged: 2018-05-26 13:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6242050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiratorizawa had stolen their place first time.</p><p>Karasuno had stolen the second.</p><p>The title of champions would never be given to the current team of Aobajousai.<br/>At least, that was what they thought until Oikawa decided otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Champions in their own right

2 times they had tried. 2 times they had failed. 

Shiratorizawa had stolen their place first time.  
Karasuno had stolen the second.  
The title of champions would never be given to the current team of Aobajousai. 

They had dealt with their loss in different ways. Kunimi had turned to video games, silently emerging himself in fictional worlds where there was a _‘try again’_ selection. Kindaichi spent more time with friends and family, distracting himself from the torment of failure. Watari and Yahaba talked about it together, until it felt numb and far in the past. They’d somehow managed to drag Kyoutani with them to the nearby park, and spent the whole day babysitting Watari’s younger siblings. Matsukawa lazed around, feasting on take-away and watching trash TV. Hanamaki volunteered temporarily at the animal shelter his sister worked at, therapeutically playing with kittens and walking dogs for three whole days. Oikawa – strangely – accepted it almost right away, attempting to come up with a plan to help sooth his teammates through their loss.

Iwaizumi was not coping well at all. He’d turned his phone off, he’d shut himself away, and he only emerged to use the bathroom or find nibbles in the kitchen. But only to shut his stomach up, he wasn’t actually hungry, he lied to himself.

His mother would be a fool not to notice the red-rimmed eyes and suddenly dreary way he carried himself. Like he’d lost all hope. He trudged around in his stinky volleyball uniform, the 4 on his back looking more grey than white. The only thing she could think to do was to stage an intervention. This was exactly why she had called Oikawa, left a spare key under the doormat, and told him to bring along the entire team.

Henceforth, 8 people clambered into the Iwaizumi household, making themselves comfortable in the living room whilst Oikawa stomped up the stairs to go and wrestle his stubborn friend out of his bedroom. It helped that he was the lightest of the team, despite being the stockiest. Oikawa pushed the door with his usual flair, letting it smack the wall as it swung open.

“Iwa-chan! I’ve come to make you see sense!” The lump under the bedcovers didn’t move. Slowly, Oikawa moved closer and sat on the edge of the bed. He could just make out the unkept and greasy hair poking out from atop the duvet cocoon, and open eyes staring blankly at a wall, glassed over with water that couldn’t escape. Running a hand through his own hair, he softened his voice.

“We all lost, y’know. The game never rode entirely on your shoulders, so why should you shoulder all the responsibility, hmm? Come downstairs, let us help you heal.” The bedcovers shifted and there was a loud sniff before an uncharacteristic wobbling voice whispered out into the quiet.

“We could have been champions.”

“... The team with the stronger six wins. That’s what you always told me, Iwa-chan.”

“But we _are_ the stronger six...” A fist clenched around a handful of pillow, the little part of Iwaizumi’s face that Oikawa could see crumpling up with distress. In all their years as best friends, Oikawa had only seen that face three times. 

When they were 8, and Iwaizumi fell from the top branches of an oak, breaking his collarbone and three ribs. When they were 13, and his mother received a diagnosis of cancer, the same thing he had lost his father to before he could even walk. And when Oikawa had injured his knee, panicked that he would never be able to play again. But for all three of those times, it had been pure fear that fuelled his tears. The fear of falling, of dying. The fear of being left alone and losing the person he loved most. The fear of his friend not being okay, of shattering to pieces. 

All Oikawa could see now was a slow, burning hatred, the kind that came from weighted sadness, before leading to an empty, hollow shell. Iwaizumi was falling once more, not from a tree, but something less salvageable. He leaned over, resting his weight against Iwaizumi and reaching forwards to press a gentle hand to Iwaizumi’s cheek, just laying it there until he felt Iwaizumi press into it. There was still hope.

“Come downstairs?”

“I can’t.” 

“You can, yes you _can_.”

“No, I mean... I really need a shower before doing anything.” Oikawa snickered, feeling the small tug of Iwaizumi’s lips against his palm. 

“Go shower! I’ll make some yummy things~!”

“Please don’t, Oikawa. I’m sure my mum wants to come home to a kitchen.”

“Rude, Iwa-chan! Rude!” As he turned over to lie on his back, ready to get up, they made eye contact, brown and green meeting before both pairs closed as they laughed together. This kind of interaction was exactly what Iwaizumi had been avoiding, but exactly what he needed. Silently, Oikawa moved off the bed and gave Iwaizumi a hand up, only raising an eyebrow at the sight of the crumpled, dirty uniform. Iwaizumi had the decency to blush and quickly grab the closest clothes to head into the shower. With a pleased huff, Oikawa came back down the stairs.

“Yo, where’s Iwaizumi?”

“Yeah, I thought you went to get him.”

“Shower~. Iwa-chan smells more than usual, so don’t be mean if he’s still stinky when he comes down!” There was unanimous agreement from the team, along with Kunimi’s interjection that Oikawa was the only one who dared harass the vice-captain. Something delicious started to waft into the room, and Oikawa couldn’t help but follow it, especially as he had promised Iwaizumi _he’d_ cook something. 

“Kindaichi! I didn’t know you could cook!” The first year whirled around, jumping in fright and almost sending a spatula flying across the room.

“No! I mean yes! I mean! ... I hope you like Hibachi...” He clapped Kindaichi on the back, instead going over to the cupboard and pulling out 9 pottery cups, as well as turning on the kettle and plucking some leaves off a small plant on the kitchen windowsill. He deposited them into the cups evenly as he spoke.

“Hibachi sounds amazing right now! Although I bet Iwa-chan could eat the whole pan.” Kindaichi nervously glanced at the amount he had frying in the pan, and the bag of rice still on the countertop. Matsukawa had assured him it would be okay to use the kitchen as if it was his own home, and Yahaba had helped him find the ingredients. Silently, he doubled the recipe in the mind and added what he needed to the pan. Oikawa watched in amusement. 

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“Hm? Oh, my mum doesn’t come home until late most days, so I taught myself.” 

“Oi, are you done in here? Not you Kindaichi. That plummock over there.” Matsukawa poked his head around the doorframe.

“Rude, Mattsun. I’m just making tea!”

“Yeah, whatever. We need your help. We want to put Godzilla on, but Iwaizumi has like, twenty something different Godzilla DVD’s. Which one’s his favourite?”

“All thirty, actually. If you can’t find Gojira VS Mekagojira, look for Godzilla VS Hedorah.”

“What the fuck? I knew he was a nerd, but I didn’t realise it was this bad.” Without waiting for a reply, Matsukawa ducked back into the living room.

“So apparently Iwaizumi is a champion at collecting Godzilla merchandise, because we have to look through 30 discs to find Gojira VS mecha whatever the fuck.” Hanamaki and Watari were already rooting through the pile, trying to swap discs back into their original cases because for some reason, they were all messed up. 

“This would be much easier if they were actually what they meant to be.” Watari frowned in confusion, trying to find the correct case for the 2014 movie remake. Ah, there it was. Inside was the golden Easter egg they were currently searching for.

“I found the Mekagojira one!” 

“Nice, Watari!” Hanamaki passed the empty case over, ready for when the movie had finished, but for now, he placed the disc into the player. Yahaba and Kunimi spoke in low, quiet tones, with Kyoutani grumpily slouching between them on the sofa. Heavy footsteps came down the stairs and Iwaizumi froze for an instance with wide eyes. A casual greeting was thrown his way by each member.

“... Hey.” Matsukawa leaned back a little, hands in his pockets.

“Didn’t Oikawa tell you we were here too?”

“He might have failed to mention that point.” 

“Iwa-chan~!” Balancing 9 drinks on a tray, Oikawa came back into the living room to pass them out, but he was blindly ignored by Iwaizumi whom sniffed the air curiously and headed into the kitchen. Kindaichi actually noticed him appear from behind this time. Mainly because he was at an angle from placing the rice dish onto seperate plates.

“Senpai!”

“Smells good, kid.” He practically glowed and blushed at the compliment, bowing quickly in gratitude.

“Th- thank you!” They spoke in low tones for a moment, their conversation broken by laughter in the living room. 

“I’d better go see what those idiots are getting up to. Let me take some plates.” Iwaizumi didn’t wait for Kindaichi to respond before he scooped up four plates, two balancing on his arms and two in hands. Walking back through, he was met with Oikawa lying across the chair and Hanamaki proudly sitting atop his stomach, ignoring the way the setter whined and lightly smacked at him as best he could. Matsukawa was taking the opportunity to draw a lovely handlebar moustache across his face. Rolling his eyes, Iwaizumi placed the food down on the table for whoever wanted, and making another trip. He claimed the biggest plate for himself, exactly as Kindaichi had intended, before wriggling himself onto the sofa between Kunimi and Kyoutani.

“What’re we watching?”

“You’ll see.” The team nattered through the pre-movie adverts, but as soon as the title screen came up and Iwaizumi sat up straighter with brimming excitement, they fell into a hush. All that could be heard was the battle between Godzilla and his metallic counterpart, and the occasional click of chopsticks against a plate. 

“Iwa-chan, are you _crying_?”

“N-No!” Blatantly, he was, but there was no way he was going to admit to that. Snickers came from Matsukawa and Hanamaki, before Yahaba stood to collect the dirty plates and didn’t hesitate to cuff them round the head.

“Leave him alone. Everyone has a movie that makes them cry.” When Kyoutani grunted as if to reject that claim, he was fixed with a deadpan look.

“Wolf Children.”

“Shut up.” 

“I think I have that somewhere.” As Iwaizumi moved to the DVD drawer to find Wolf Children, nobody noticed Oikawa slip back to his bag in the hallway. Kunimi was the first to realise he was absent as Watari made it absolutely sure that Iwaizumi put the disc back in the correct case. He stood from his seat on the sofa, knowing there was no way he’d be able to squash back in once Yahaba and Iwaizumi had made themselves comfortable.

“Senpai?” Oikawa jolted up from where he had been rummaging through his bag. He looked guiltily over his shoulder.

“Hiii, Kunimi-chan~.”

“What are you doing?” He was hiding something behind his back. Kunimi thought he caught a glimpse of gold.

“Nothing at all! You go back to the room now! Go on!” He tried to peer around Oikawa’s back, but the setter just kept fake-grinning and shifting to hide it from view. That was, until he dropped an object. For all his lethargy, Kunimi had extremely fast reflexes and he was able to swipe it from the ground before Oikawa could react in the slightest.

“Geh!” It was gold. Shiny, foil gold, about the size of his palm. Attached to it, a blue ribbon. Guiltily, Oikawa pouted and produced a handful of chocolate medals from behind his back. 

“I thought... B-because we couldn’t get the real ones, we could... Have these instead. I mean, we didn’t win our volleyball matches. But we’re all champions of our own thing. I wanted to highlight that.” As their confident captain fidgeted under Kunimi’s scrutinising gaze, a small scuffle broke out in the living room over whether they were going to watch Wolf Children and make Kyoutani cry or not. Obviously, the majority were determined to watch, but Kyoutani was vehemently protesting by snatching the DVD case from Iwaizumi’s hands and bolting back to the sofa. He put it between the sofa cushions and then sat in front of them, growling under his breath and fully prepared to lash out at anyone who _dared_ try and get it.

“Children, children! Settle down~. I have a _big_ announcement!” 

“As big as your ego?”

“As big as your hair?”

“It’s only that big because it’s full of secrets.”

“Nice, Issei.”

“You understood my reference, ‘Hiro. That’s soulmates.” The duo knocked their fists together with an over exaggerated sound of excitement, prompting eye-rolls all round. Yahaba was pretty sure his retinas were going to snap, one of these days. Oikawa puffed his cheeks out with irritation. Kunimi stood behind him blandly, hiding something in his arms away from the rest of the group. He smirked at Kindaichi as he failed to sneak a peek.

“May I please speak?!” The outburst drew attention his way, and Oikawa cleared his throat to regain composure.

“So... As you know, Karasuno won the chance to fight Shiratorizawa for the spot to represent Miyagi at nationals. Now, um... They might not become champions, and – and the truth is that we won’t either. Maybe... Maybe next year, with captain Yahaba! Or even the year after, when I’m sure Kindaichi will be true Ace material.” Yahaba looked down at the floor with a sheepish smile, tapping his toe on the floorboards. Watari pat his friend on the back at the same time Iwaizumi gave a hearty thump and encouraging squeeze to Kindaichi’s shoulder. The first year was red in the face, and the water beading in his eyes was either pain from the strong thump on his back, or because he was emotionally moved. Oikawa cleared his throat in a much softer tone to continue on with his speech.

“Either way... We are not champions. Not- Not at volleyball at least. But there is more than just volleyball, and wow, it feels wrong to say that!” Warm laughs met his statement, none more than Iwaizumi, who had dragged Oikawa from the gymnasium kicking and screaming many, many times. Oikawa reached behind him, and pulled one of the chocolate medals from Kunimi’s arms. He held it up in the air before turning to Kindaichi and looping the blue ribbon over his head.

“Kindaichi! Champion of cooking, as we all just witnessed~. It was originally going to be nerves and contradicting statements, but the Hibachi won me over.” Clapping and mumbles of agreement broke out, before they saw Oikawa pick up another medal. This one, he looped over Kunimi’s neck, and the first year blinked like he hadn’t expected to receive one. 

“Kunimi, Champion of naps and sketches! Your drawings are amazing, Kunimi-chan~. Show them off with more pride instead of waiting for someone to criticize them.”

“Y-Yes, captain...” He tilted his head away, trying not to let anyone see the small smile tugging on his lips. The ritual continued, Oikawa pointing out everybody’s strengths. 

“Mad Dog-chan! Champion of ignoring me, and riling people up unnecessarily.” Kyoutani had growled at him, and in the end, Iwaizumi had taken the medal from Oikawa to put over the thuggish members head. 

“Ahem. Watacchin! Champion of rolling in a dustbin down a hill, and being super supportive! Keep people laughing, okay?”

“Roger!” He mock saluted, holding a hand across the medal around his neck, grinning with pride and happiness. 

“Yahaba-chan, oh my gosh, I could say so much. But, I’m just gonna sum it up as Champion of kindness, gentleness, understanding, and scariness. Because you are terrifying when you want to be.” The secondary setter broke into a beam, almost glowing with satisfaction. If he was feared as much as he was loved, then that was perfect for him. It would make being Captain easier in the coming year.

“Mattsun! Champion of sarcastic comments and coffee consumption!”

“Wow, _that’s_ flattering.”

“And you prove my point.” Matsukawa only smirked as he shrugged, accepting the medal around his neck.

“Makki, the Champion of eating cream puffs in two seconds flat and most accurate fake-orgasm noises!”

“I’m proud of that.” He didn’t hesitate before picking at the gold foil and Oikawa had to slap his hand away to stop him from devouring it before he had even finished his little awards ceremony. Lastly, he turned to Iwaizumi, and his facial expression softened. Iwaizumi seemed almost distant, like he was preparing to deny everything Oikawa said. Luckily, he had planned for that, and plotted his speech very carefully.

“Iwa-chan. You’re a Champion in many ways – Don’t snort, it’s true! – But there’s one thing about all that stands out. You hold the team together. You inspire us to do our best. You look after us in your own way, personalised for each of us. Throughout this entire year, you’ve never given up on us, you always believed we could go the whole way. You were always looking forwards, and knocked sense into us if necessary. In most cases, literally. Iwa-chan, please accept this medal for what you truly are.” Oikawa smiled, honest and true and it seemed like his face would split if he smiled any wider. Mirth twinkled in his eyes before he closed them to only smile wider, with more mischief.

“Champion team mother!” He practically threw the medal at Iwaizumi before he sprinted as fast as possible in the opposite direction for fear of death. He only stopped as he skidded through the doorframe and poked his head back, realising that Iwaizumi wasn’t chasing after him and was instead looking down at the medal with a _smile_.

“I won’t hit you, just this once.” He took a deep breath in, looking up at his team with a wobbly smile, like he was trying to fight it off.

“We’re a family. And... That’s the greatest prize any ‘Champion’ could ever have.”


End file.
